


While I breathe, I hope

by Kolurize



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle, Dont let the tags fool you this is a happy ending, Gen, I intended this to be more shippy than it turned out, M/M, Possession, Post-Possession, and that turns out to be an oopsie, background all hermits, grian completes the infinity gauntlet, near panic attacks, the battle just took over oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kolurize/pseuds/Kolurize
Summary: Cub could feel it almost as soon as it happened.The world rippled and flashed before his eyes, and he felt the echoes of power flood his entire body. It was like the greeting of an old friend, one he thought he left behind in their previous world forever.But they were here, and they were together.The stones.---Or: Grian gathers the stones, but he doesn't expect the consequences.
Relationships: Cubfan135 & Grian
Comments: 10
Kudos: 126





	While I breathe, I hope

**Author's Note:**

> This story was proofread by the wonderful [AbschaumNo1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbschaumNo1/pseuds/AbschaumNo1) who made this fic readable for your viewing pleasure :D
> 
> As always, this is minecraft personas ONLY, yadda yadda, have fun! <3

Cub could feel it almost as soon as it happened.

The world rippled and flashed before his eyes, and he felt the echoes of power flood his entire body. It was like the greeting of an old friend, one he thought he left behind in their previous world forever.

But they were here, and they were together.

The stones.

Cub dropped the sandstone he was carrying for construction and hurried back to his storage area. Frantically, he rummaged for fighting gear: an okay chest plate, a good bow courtesy of Keralis' shop, blocks, potions, shield, food. There was pressure building up in the atmosphere, and the more time he wasted the heavier it got. A certain part of his brain began screaming at him to stop, give up, let it be, it is what is, but he pushed it down, down, down as far as he could and soldiered on with heavy footsteps.

The armour slotted over his pharaoh garb awkwardly, he felt the cold diamond press on his exposed skin and he suppressed a shiver at the temperature disparity. He took out the best sword he owned and paused, taking a deep breath. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but he needed to prepare for the worst.

Cub had a hunch about the source of this power. He really hadn’t banked on this being the outcome of the infamous button game, but things being what they were he really should've seen it coming. He'd noticed Grian collecting all colours, had seen him wearing gems on his wrist, he really should've connected the dots.

But he didn't.

So with a final moment to brace himself, he stepped through his portal into the nether.

\--

The travel to the nether was disorientating, but even after shaking it off Cub could feel a certain unnatural pressure building up and pressing down on him. There were winds kicking up out of nowhere, throwing up the centuries old dust and nearly blowing him off his feet the second he stepped out of his mini pyramid. He could see the build up of power even from here, exactly in the spot he expected it to be: next to the button.

"Oh, Grian," Cub whispered, words lost to the wind, "what have you done?"

Cub himself had never dared to do this. He'd always shared the stones with Scar, had never used more than one at a time or handled more than half. Last season, they stayed in their enforced cages most of the time and he'd learned to ignore their call whenever he was near. The stones  _ wanted _ to be together, but they contained too much power for a single person to handle.

And yet, Grian went and did it.

Cub took a step, bracing against the whirlwinds. Then another. He gained ground slowly but surely towards the epicentre. No one else joined him, no other hermit strong enough to withstand the mind stone's temptations, nay, orders, to just stay where they are and let it happen. Even Scar had spent most of his time working on projects away from the influence of the gauntlet last season, so he wasn't as immune as Cub.

The more ground he gained, the louder he could hear it: a single, shrill scream of painhorrorshockhurt- coming from the eye of the storm.

Suddenly, he had to duck. A piece of grey concrete came flying at him out of nowhere, and other bits of debris began circling in the winds. The storm had picked up the entire button contraption. By now the only thing keeping him from being thrown around like a ragdoll was his sword, strategically embedded in the tiny space between bedrock blocks like he was carrying out a horizontal climbing mission.

"GRIAN!" He cried, but the winds took his voice and flung it away, away, away. Just a bit more.

Finally, Cub entered the eye of the storm. Grian was crumpled in the middle, his eyes glowing and staring out at nothing at all. His expression was frozen in surprise and fear, and he was clutching the gauntlet as his skin rippled and flashed with power. Cub grabbed his shoulders first.

"Ack!"

He flinched away when his hands were zapped by energy, then grit his teeth and doubled down his efforts.

"Grian!" He shook the man's shoulders, then cupped his cheek and observed his eyes. There was no reaction, no flicker of anything in them, no one was home.

He had to get the gauntlet off.

Which was easy to say, but Cub couldn't even glance at the gauntlet without feeling like his eyes were about to be burned off. He was developing a splitting headache as the mind stone doubled its efforts.

_ You could have it all, be Our vessel, be with- _

No.

_ You could have the power, you could own the world, just succumb to this, join Us, join him- _

No!

Cub was hearing a scream but only later did it register that it was his own, rippling from his chest like the thrill of a phantom.  Through the haze  he hefted his sword in the air and swung it down blindly with all the strength he could muster: the trajectory was across Grian's wrist, attempting to lob off the entire gauntlet at once, and embed into his thigh. Cub had barely a split second to regret this before the vibration of impact reverberated across his body. It wasn't connecting to fleshy thigh, though.

Grian - or, the stones through him, - had finally moved. The gauntlet was blocking Cub's sword and when he pulled he found the weapon wouldn't budge beyond that. Then, Grian was moving and Cub was too slow to avoid a swipe at his face. He was knocked back, teeth rattling in his jaw, leaving the sword in Grian's iron grip.

Cub scrambled to his feet, spitting out blood. His lip was split from the impact, but he was otherwise okay. However, he had lost his sword. He had a bow and an okay axe in his possession, but his heavy hitter was out of commission. It clattered to the ground moments later as Grian stood up from his crumpled position.

His eyes were blank, expression still frozen in shock, and his body moved like a puppet on strings: short, jerky movements and swaying limbs. His head swivelled towards Cub but he seemed to look past him, and Cub felt a shiver run down his spine.

Seeing Grian - bright, cheerful Grian - like this was unnerving to say the least. He was used to mischief and laughter dancing in those black eyes, schemes and jokes racing across his open face. He adored the spark of friendly competition in the man when Cub was around, and had the most fun enabling Grian's shenanigans in the most roundabout ways. Cub enjoyed Grian on principle, if not more, and this… this was an excruciating sight to behold.

Grian stood there, slowly flexing his muscles like he was getting used to them - or, like the stones were getting used to  _ him _ . No doubt soon he’d be a killing machine under the puppeteering of the stones, and hermitcraft- no. The entire Minecraft Multiverse would be doomed.

Cub grit his teeth and readied his bow. At the very least, he had to shoot off the mind stone. If that were gone not only would the power the stones had over Grian weaken, but also the whispers in his and presumably everyone else's minds would stop and backup would arrive soon after. He just had to make this one shot.

Just this one shot.

The string of his bow was trembling. Was it pulled too far or was that his hands shaking? Did his sight laser focus, or did it blur? A grinding noise echoed in his skull and that was definitely his teeth clenching.

Three-

Two-

Suddenly, Grian grinned ferally, his empty eyes focusing on Cub. Oh no.  _ Oh no, no, no. _ Releasing the arrow blindly, Cub flinched back and it was all he could do to narrowly evade a beam of power. It just grazed his cheek and he heard something sizzle. He had only a split second to mourn the trajectory of the wasted arrow as it sailed past Grian without even touching him. In the next second he had to run.

Run where?

The eye of the storm remained the only safe place on the roof of the nether, any other shelter long since destroyed by the blades of wind. There wasn’t much space left, and Grian was advancing on Cub like a jaguar prowling after its first meal in a long while. If Cub wasn’t pale as a sheet before, he now certainly was.

“Grian, get a hold of yourself,” he tried hysterically, readying his meagre axe to block the incoming blow.

“Grian isn’t home right now, Cubby dear,” Grian- the stones - singsonged, the voice layered and downright  _ demonic _ . It froze Cub in his tracks and he didn’t block the blow on time - so he went sprawling on the ground a few metres away, wheezing.

There was no time: he rolled almost immediately, barely evading a glowing fist that dented the bedrock layer where Cub had been laying just a split second before. Two rolls and he rose to his knees, swinging the axe in a wild uppercut towards the approaching entity of chaos with a cry.

But the axe seemingly passed right through the man, turning into a simple stick with a shimmering glow. He threw it aside, scrambling for any weapon in his pockets. He still had the bow, but it wasn’t exactly a melee weapon. Grian walked forward confidently, with no regard for Cub’s space or imminent retaliation, and Cub found himself taking hasty steps backwards until he could feel the blades of the storm nipping at his heels.

“Cubby, Cubby, Cubby,” Grian spoke again with the infernal voice. “Why did you confine Us, when you could’ve had the universe at your feet with Our help?”

He tilted his head in a manner that was almost innocent, if it weren’t for the predatory way his eyes narrowed. With another step he was leering in Cub’s face, glare demanding and domineering.

“ **Why did you ignore Us, Cub, leave Us behind, disregard Our manifestation?** ”

“I-” Cub began, but he felt the air flow cease in his throat, and he found himself gasping for oxygen.

“No matter,” the stones continued, not at all interested in Cub’s explanations or excuses. “Your perseverance was but a bump in Our road. Now...” They grasped Cub’s throat and lifted him in the air. The storm wasn’t a storm anymore, it was a tornado of sharp blades biting at Cub’s back like a starving pack of wolves. “It is time for you to go.”

Cub gasped and wheezed, but before he could be thrown into imminent death, he grit his teeth and levelled a pained smirk at his opponent.

Grian blinked.

With the barest of fumbles, Cub reached for the gauntlet squeezing his throat and  _ ripped _ just the one gem out of the slots.

The mind gem.

The grip on Cub’s throat weakened and the power stopping his airflow ceased. He tumbled to his knees in front of Grian, who now looked like he was in utter agony. His face pinched, his eyes flashed, and the tornado around them at long last calmed.

Cub had thrown the stones off by removing one of them from the gauntlet. It was now clutched in a tight fist, screaming at Cub and Cub alone to  **return it to the collective.** This, Cub had no plans of doing any time soon.

The confusion of the leftover stones wouldn’t last forever, though, and frankly Cub hadn’t been banking on that in the first place. Grian’s expression cleared within seconds, turning to an angry snarl as he rounded back on Cub.

“Crafty, crafty Cubby,” the stones sing-songed, “can’t escape us anyway.”

Clutching the mind stone for dear life, Cub turned and ran. Debris from the nether constructions were littering his path now but he vaulted what he could and zig-zagged the rest. He didn’t need to win this.

He only needed to stall.

None the wiser, Grian followed Cub’s trail leisurely. There was fury on his face, but also laidback sadism, a predator who knew his prey was cornered. Even from a distance Cub could see the stones warring within Grian. It showed on his face, the expression morphing from indifferent to wicked, to downright furious in rapid succession as different stones prevailed. Without their last piece they couldn’t achieve the equilibrium necessary to hold their control over a human, and that control was rapidly crumbling despite - in fact, precisely because of - their overwhelming individual power.

But that was not what Cub was stalling for.

Within minutes, he heard it: the tell-tale sound of a nether portal firing up. Then another. And another. Within seconds about a dozen portals lit up in the nether and with hope soaring at long last he watched as hermits streamed onto the nether roof in full battle gear. 

The stones cottoned on to the plan at once, and Grian lunged at Cub with a snarl.

“ **You traitor!** ” They screeched, toppling Cub despite his size and pinning him to the bedrock floor by his throat. Cub clawed at the hands but they were reinforced by ancient magic and it was all he could do to keep Grian from breaking his neck outright.

Something thunked against Grian’s head and fizzled out, prompting both men to look up. Scar, flanked by False and Etho, had sent a blast of magic Grian’s way. By his surprised expression he probably expected to completely blast Grian off of Cub, but he hurried to the back lines anyway and False cut off their line of sight with a well-aimed arrow.

Cub was certain the other hermits - bar maybe Scar - were confused by this situation, but they instinctively felt this wasn’t Grian, not in essence. He took the moment their distraction provided to heave the possessed Grian off him - the stones may have had power, but not  **weight** , and Grian was so light Cub sometimes wanted to-

Well.

Anyway.

Cub made a mad dash away from Grian. He was an okay fighter, but he was tired and in pain and his head was downright  _ splitting _ from the mind stone’s screeches, and he needed to rest. Or at least get a potion of healing.

There were makeshift trenches hastily built up a bit away and Xisuma hustled Cub behind one of them, his calculating eyes laser focused on the battle as he shouted directions to coordinate the team. Iskall and Etho were supporting False in keeping Grian’s attention too divided to do any significant damage to any one of them while Scar lobbed magic at him. Tango occasionally darted through the fight and set down TNT to detonate as soon as he was out of range. Beef and xB were the second line of defense along with Keralis and Doc. 

Behind the shelter of the walls, Stress pulled Cub down and pressed a potion of healing into his hand. Cub gulped it down at once, the taste of melon overtaking the iron pooling in his mouth. He nearly choked on it, his throat squeezing painfully after the mistreatment it had been through. He took a deep breath to calm down his coughing fit as Stress rubbed circles on his back sympathetically. The air smelled of dust and fire, and he could  _ taste  _ the tang of power radiating off of Grian from all the way over here.

The shaking in his clenched fist reminded him he couldn’t rest for long though, because of all people Grian would be targeting  _ him _ , trying to get the mind gem back. He clenched his teeth and clambered to his feet once again.

“Stay  _ down _ , Cub,” Stress hissed at him. Normally, he would immediately follow her orders: she was a medic and she was scarily good at what she did. But this time it wasn’t an option.

“The gauntlet, X,” Cub shouted at their admin, “we need to take the gauntlet off his hand!”

Xisuma glanced at Cub momentarily. He didn’t reply but when he went back to shouting directions it was clear his strategy had changed.

Cub spotted his sword lying near the battle where it had clattered to the ground earlier. He darted that way, trying to stay behind debris and makeshift walls the whole way through. The moment he was in view, however, Grian’s eyes locked onto him immediately.

“Look out!” Was the only warning Cub got, and he lunged without question. This saved him from taking the full brunt of a blast of power sent his way, but it clipped his shoulder and he tumbled to the ground clutching the wound. There was another cry of pain and xB took Iskall’s place in the lineup as Zedaph and Impulse darted in and supported the wounded man out of the battle.

The ever chattering mind stone didn’t let Cub forget that he didn’t hold that luxury. He  _ had _ to see this battle through. He staggered to his feet and grabbed the sword. Oh, but it hurt, his mind whispered. And a rest sounded so good right now. Why would he want to hurt Grian, he  _ liked _ the man. He should just drop his weapons and-

Cutting off his thoughts out of the blue, there was a triumphant cry in the form of Tango, who'd managed to knock off and grab one other stone from the gauntlet. Cub wasn't sure which one from this distance but he could see Grian start convulsing, the power imbalance too great for the vessel to cope. 

The battle paused in virtual limbo as Grian screamed - raw, pained,  _ Grian _ , - and writhed, and his skin flashed with power, just like when Cub found him. It looked like the powers were warring inside him, ripping him apart from the inside out.

The winds started up again, as did the chant in Cub's mind: no, no,  _ no _ , please  _ no _ .

Cub darted towards Grian even as the other hermits retreated with caution. They’d never dealt with this kind of threat before, and their battle plan for unexpected situations was to double back and plan anew. Cub, however, understood exactly what was going on: he could feel the pressure like a ticking clock, counting down to the moment Grian’s body could no longer handle the power of the stones contained with such disbalance within him. 

Impulse got in his way, trying to stop him from advancing, but Cub barreled right past him, single-mindedly focused on reaching the builder before it was too late. His shield didn’t help much through the gusts of razor-sharp wind, blocking only minute amounts of damage before it was too beaten up to stop anything.

When he reached the builder he once again was taken aback by the flashes of power crawling under Grian’s skin. It looked grotesque, at least to Cub who rather liked the man’s usual visage and the magic obstructing and disfiguring that felt almost sacrilegious, like watching a church catch fire. His screams rang in Cub’s ears like sirens, the mind stone raged at him telepathically, there were distant concerned calls from hermits and it was all  _ too much _ , so much so that a small, child-like part of Cub wanted nothing more than to curl up and wish it all away.

Instead, he reached out.

The power latched onto Cub as soon as he touched Grian’s hand, connecting with the mind stone, trying to overpower him, to destroy him, to set balance anew. It bubbled with indecisiveness on which to do, as their final piece was clutched in Tango’s hands far behind the trench lines, and Cub took advantage of that.

For such a powerful artefact, plucking it off Grian’s hand was easier than Cub expected. Perhaps it was because the stones were, at long last, knocked off balance. Or perhaps the eyes that followed his movements didn’t belong to the stones, not in that moment. Perhaps it was Grian who was watching, and he was trying -  _ by the gods, was he trying - _ to help Cub along.

The stones weren’t done just yet though. Their power dislodged from Grian entirely and latched onto Cub hungrily, but this wasn’t Cub’s first rodeo with power beyond comprehension. He embraced it, nay, engulfed it with his entire being and pushed it down mercilessly. The air around him sizzled and crackled and Cub doubled over, hissing deep breaths through clenched teeth. 

Grian crumpled to the ground next to Cub, unconscious but- but alive. Cub could hear it, could hear the steady heartbeat and the faint breaths of the builder, could hear the rapid discussions behind the trench-walls. There was a baby piglin hundreds of blocks below swimming in a block of lava and giggling childishly. Off in the distance the nether portals unaffected by the storms twisted and buzzed disinterestedly. Everyone was breathing so, so loudly. Everyone was talking, everyone was living, it was too much, too much too muchtoomuchtoomuch-

There was a cold hand on his shoulder and Cub felt the most minute amount of tension leave his body. Scar had also handled some of the stones before and, now that Grian was safe, was here to help with controlling them. At long last, the battle as it were in physical form was over.

\----

Grian woke up to a white ceiling. It was nowhere he recognized at once, but it was calm, and so he felt no urgency to begin panicking about it just yet. He turned to the side, finding a glass of water set on the nightstand. It hurt to move enough to drink it, but his mouth felt as dry as a desert, and it gave him something to do besides stare at the ceiling and contemplate recent events.

There was a presence in the room other than him, but it was so quiet he didn’t notice it at first: Cub’s sleeping form in an armchair not too far from his bed. Grian watched him for a moment - the way he curled slightly into himself as he slept, the usually pinched lines on his face smoothed out by sleep, the fact that he was  _ here _ for some inexplicable reason.

If he was here to guard the prisoner, he wasn't doing a very good job.

Grian flinched at the thought, looking away. His brain couldn’t process everything that had happened, from the final stone to the- the battle. He decimated the nether roof. He hurt people. He-

Grian winced and curled in on himself, letting out a shaky breath through the pain his body was in. He had nearly killed Cub. And it was all his fault.

He insisted on gathering all the colours. All the stones. He wanted unlimited power, well…. he got it. And all the hermits suffered as a result of his brazen craving. Not to mention…

Grian shivered in disgust as he recalled the feeling of the power coursing through him. At the beginning, it was intoxicating and exhilarating. But once the stones woke up and began chattering in his mind and things started spiralling out of control - out of his control, that is, - it was nothing but terror that filled his entire being. The stones locked up his consciousness in a corner of his mind where his screams fell on deaf ears the entire time. No amount of power was worth this. He felt used.

There was a rustle in the room that didn't come from Grian. Cub was waking up. All at once, Grian panicked; he wanted the void to swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to face this, face Cub or the others in the aftermath of his failure. But he could barely move, pain shooting through his muscles at the slightest twitches. He was stuck.

Was he going to be exiled? Imprisoned? Or was his crime bad enough to warrant a jump in the- 

Tears pricked at his eyes out of fear, frustration. He clenched his teeth to keep the sob down but it wasn't enough. Within seconds he could see Cub in his peripheral vision peering over his curled form with something akin to worry.

"Grian…"

He flinched away from the voice in pure anticipation. There was a pause and he could almost physically  _ feel _ the wave of resignation wafting from the man. Then, as he trembled waiting for the- cuffs? Blows? - all he heard next were retreating footsteps and the soft click of a closing door. And just like that, Grian was all alone.

Ah.

A long silence followed during which Grian stared at a spot just off to the side, trying to will the pain away. A smile wobbled on his face and he laughed wetly. He didn't want to be alone, not right now, but he only realized it once Cub left and there was nothing to focus on but the screaming of his muscles and the itch crawling under his skin at the bubbling memories of miseryangerhelplessness-

The door opened once again, this time two pairs of footsteps closing in on him. Did Cub bring reinforcements just to jail him?  _ Him? _ Grian could barely move, much less resist arrest.

But then there was a soft touch on his forehead and a worried tsk coming from no other than Stress, their medic. No restraints, no anger, and Grian looked up in bafflement just to watch her putter around the room mixing herbs and medicines in some fizzy concoctions, humming as if all was right in the world.

All while Grian's world was so painfully, irreversibly off-kilter.

"Cub said you'd be in a lot of pain once you woke up," Stress began softly, just a gentle soul making conversation to fill the space. "Now, I've got the healing potions all done and dusted, but when it comes to anaesthetic, it's a whole nother can of worms…"

And on she went. Grian could, for the first time since that door opened, feel the air entering his lungs. He wheezed, coughed, and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand only to falter when he found it empty. Right.

There was shuffling and Cub entered his field of vision to fill the glass using a nearby water bottle. He lingered just long enough for Grian to actually  _ see  _ the man for the first time since he woke up.

Cub was…

Cub was a wreck, really.

He had dark circles under his eyes, betraying his vigil by Grian's bed, and a stark white cast covered his right hand and wrist. There were bruises on his face that looked glossy as if covered in salve, and some were haphazardly covered as if to say "there, now stop wiggling away". His pharaoh garb was off, replaced by a loose white tshirt under which Grian could spy swathes of gauze wrapped around his torso and shoulder, all the way up his neck. If he was a pharaoh before, he now looked more like a mummy of one and Grian's heart broke at the sight.

He did that.

Grian looked away guiltily, glancing back in surprise when the cold glass was gently pressed into his hand. Cub was watching him with an unexpected warmth in his eyes that sent Grian's mind reeling in confusion and a rush of blood rising to his cheeks.

Cub wasn't supposed to be doing that.

He most definitely was not supposed to be doing that.

Grian breathed in, albeit he had no idea what to say. Cub didn't speak, just lingered his hand near Grian's when he took hold of the glass and waited for him to drink the water. His eyes roamed over Grian's face looking for  _ something _ and suddenly the hermit needed that drink profoundly.

"Alrighty," Stress' cheerful voice cut through the tension abruptly and Cub drew back sharply as the medic started to invade the patient's space instead. She held a vial of some kind of potion and a small jar of salve that smelled so potent Grian could feel it pervading his senses from afar. Even Cub leaned well away from the smell, scrunching his nose as inconspicuously as he could manage - something Grian only noticed because he was still watching him well after the moment was over.

Stress made him drink the potion before the water and fussed over him for a while but Grian heard none of that; his mind was working overtime trying to figure out  _ why he wasn't in a jail cell yet _ and  _ why was Cub being nice to him _ but the more he thought, the more questions he came up with instead. His head was absolutely splitting.

Eventually, Stress left after a pointed look to his - guard? Vigil-stander? - and Cub migrated to the chair he was sitting on earlier, not looking at Grian but not  _ not _ paying attention to him per se. The silence stretched between them, long and thin, and Grain  _ couldn't take it anymore _ .

"Why," he croaked at last, realizing that he hadn't spoken a word since he woke up by the way his voice cracked over the syllable.

"Why not," was the instant reply and Grian could see in those black eyes a subtle mischievous look. He had seen it enough times in the mirror that he'd recognize it anywhere and indeed, that response made him pause.

"You could have died," Grian responded, scrunching his brows as he worked over the problem. "I could have killed you."

Cub relaxed back in his chair, his eyes losing some of the tension surrounding them as he smiled in a cat-like manner.

"So could anyone else. So could a dedicated silverfish. You aren't special in that regard."

That… was not untrue. But it wasn't right. For a hot second, Grian’s brain felt like it was short-circuiting and he opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to work it out. Then, amazingly, Cub’s rare uproarious laugh bubbled up in the room like a summer shower, and his brain absolutely self-destructed.

Cub rarely laughed. He was happy a lot, and he chuckled along to Grian's jokes and was infinitely amused at the pranks pulled around the server, but all in all he hardly ever throw-back-his-head, full-belly, laughed. It was not an aspect of the man Grian had seen, until now.

The tension leaked from Grian's body, almost like it had never been there, and he found himself joining the laughter. It wasn't that funny but once he started Grian found he couldn't stop, and they kept laughing well after the joke was retired. It was cathartic, a full blown release from the weight of the world on their shoulders, and tears streamed down both their cheeks but they didn't - couldn't - stop.

Grian's muscles screamed at him and Cub was clutching his bad shoulder, and their laughter had dissolved to silent wheezes but if they stopped, Grian was sure he'd burst into tears.

Ages passed, or maybe it was mere minutes, and the room now felt light, as if filled to the brim with sunlight with the occasional wheezing snuffle passing through the air. This was beyond Grian's wildest expectations when it came to the aftermath, but somehow, with Cub sitting right there and wiping away mirthful tears it felt  _ right _ .

His mind tried screaming at him, horrible buts and what ifs, but Grian couldn't find it in himself to care right now. Looking at Cub, he couldn’t spot a single hint of malice, or anger, or disgust under the beaming smile, and it eased his heart.

Maybe he was wrong, maybe he wasn't, but Cub was on his side and they would cross that bridge when they got to it. So for now, Grian breathed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave kudos, comment and bookmark the work to let me know you enjoy my fics, and I will see you all next time ;)


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